


where we stood was holy ground

by kathillards



Category: Kamen Rider Wizard
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathillards/pseuds/kathillards
Summary: He misses her in the strangest of moments. ―- HarutoKoyomi





	where we stood was holy ground

He misses her in the strangest of moments. When the tides are still and the city is asleep and he catches a glimpse of orange and silver out of the corner of his eye –

But it’s someone else’s ring. The wrong shape, the wrong size. Hair too short, eyes too light. He turns around and sees her again, and again, and again.

Always, always someone else. Something else.

He thinks it should get easier, at some point, but it never really does.

 

 

She stands first, waves lapping at her ankles. The wind continues to rush around them, night sinking slow and steady across the sky. Haruto looks up at her, the starlight scattered around her face, the careful line of determination in the set of her mouth.

“If we live in the present,” Koyomi says softly, “then we should go. Find the ringmaker.”

“Oh.” Haruto rises, a bit unsteadily, to his feet. It’s like the sea is still trying to drag him under. Her weight at his side had been an anchor; without it, he feels lost. “Right.”

Koyomi smiles at him. “We’ll go together.” She reaches a hand out, almost uncertainly.

Haruto takes it without hesitation. Her palm is small in his, and freezing cold, but he curls their fingers together like he can press his body heat into hers. Her smile wavers, then brightens, just a little.

“Together,” he promises her. The weight of the water at his feet fades away as he follows her onto the sand, and into their future.

 

 

He’s sitting in a café somewhere in Europe when he looks up and sees her in the seat across from him.

“No donuts here?” she asks, tapping a finger thoughtfully to her cheek. Haruto glances down at his salad bowl, then back up at her. The vision of her doesn’t fade. He wonders if he’s going mad.

“Couldn’t find any plain sugar,” he admits. On his finger, her ring glints in the afternoon sunshine. Koyomi laughs and the sound is so warm, so clear, he almost forgets that –

She’s not really here.

 

 

 

The night they realize she needs his mana to survive, he finds her crying in her room. Wajima is asleep; the whole shop is quiet, and if he hadn’t checked in on her, he wouldn’t have heard her tears.

“Koyomi,” he breathes, at her side in an instant. She’s curled up on her bed, the ring too big on her fingers. “What’s the matter?”

She’s shaking, and she doesn’t speak until he takes her hand in his and holds it while she calms down. “How can I live like this?” she asks him, her voice awfully small in the quiet of her room. “How can I survive off your mana forever?”

“I…” Haruto pauses, unsure of what to say, and then reaches out with his other hand. Her skin is cold to the touch, but he doesn’t let that stop him, stroking his thumb over her cheek, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “I don’t know. But you have me.”

Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. “For how long? How long does this last? How long can _we_ last?”

The ring he’s been given is heavy on his hand as he curls his palm around her face, cradles her close. “However long it takes,” Haruto tells her. “I’ll be there.”

Koyomi leans up and he presses his forehead to hers. For the longest moment, they stay there, listening to each other’s quiet breathing, her tears drying on her cheeks.

 

 

When he goes back to Tokyo, the shop feels different in her absence. More empty corners, the hallways hollowed out. Without her around, he doesn’t know why his feet keep leading him automatically to her room upstairs.

It’s untouched. Everything preserved carefully. The rustling of the lace curtains, the perfectly-made bed. He can almost see her lying there, eyes closed, at peace in her sleep.

“Haruto?”

He turns and sees her standing in the doorway, delicate and beautiful, a smile curling at her lips. On instinct, he lifts a hand to touch her – and then remembers, her ring is gone. Stored away safely with her.

Koyomi steps forward and takes his hand. She’s warm. He knows it’s not real.

Still, he takes the chance and draws her in. “I miss you,” he tells her, the words muffled in her hair. “I miss you all the time.”

“Haruto,” she says gently, and lays her other hand over his heart. He looks down and sees the ring – the Philosopher’s Stone, gleaming pink on her finger. It winks under the dim light of her bedroom, and when he looks back at her face –

She’s already gone.

 

 

“It’s so bright here,” Koyomi says, turning in a circle at the center of the shopping mall. The fluorescent lights bounce off her hair and the orange ring on her hand; she clutches her purse tighter and looks to him, her eyes wide and full of wonder.

“Come on.” Haruto smiles, offering her his arm. “We’ve got all day to do whatever you want.”

Koyomi blinks up at him, then around at the stores surrounding them. With a small smile, she slides her hand into his arm. Through his jacket, he can barely even feel how cold she is.

“I wanted to get some flowers, too,” she says as they approach a booth selling brightly-colored flowers. “For the shop. Our sunflowers are going to wilt soon.”

“Of course.” Haruto stops in front of the booth and gestures at all the options. “Pick your favorite.”

Koyomi runs her hand over the petals of an iris, and red roses, and bluebells. She pauses, then looks up at the hanging pots on the roof of the booth, overflowing with honeysuckle vines and tiny blossoms and wildflowers.

“I can’t reach those,” she says with a frown. Haruto grins at her and reaches up to grab one of the pots and settle it in her arms. She smiles down at the bundle of vines and flowers, their colors vivid against the white of her dress.

“We just had those imported in,” says the shopkeeper, filing her nails. “They’re a bit expensive, but worth it if you want long-lasting flowers with all those colors.”

Koyomi touches the pink petals of one of the wildflowers. “I like them,” she says, looking up at Haruto. “Do you?”

He plucks one of the blossoms and slides it behind her ear. “We’ll take the pot,” he says to the shopkeeper, although his smile is focused on Koyomi. “In fact, why don’t we take two?”

“We only need one for the shop,” Koyomi protests, gingerly touching the flower on her head.

Haruto shrugs. “The other for your room, then.”

Koyomi smiles up at him, and the flower doesn’t leave her side all day.

 

 

He dreams of her in black, sometimes, black and white and purple eyes.

They would be nightmares, if it weren’t for the fact that any dream with Koyomi could never really be a nightmare. Always, he ends up dreaming of her smile, of the ocean waves around them, and the scent of the sea and her takes him away from the fear.

The nights when he wakes up feeling like his bones have been left behind on the beach are the worst. He closes his eyes again, tries to steady his breathing, and thinks of her as she had been – kind and sharp and bright-eyed. Full of warmth even when her skin was frozen cold.

He imagines, sometimes, on these lost, lonely nights, that he can feel soft lips press to his forehead, a whisper over his skin.

“I’ll always be with you,” Koyomi breathes. Whenever he opens his eyes, there’s nothing there but wind.

 

 

She doesn’t eat, but she accompanies him to the donut cart after a few too many phantoms have drained his energy, sticking closely to his side like she can protect him if another one emerges. Maybe she can, he thinks, smiling down at her as they walk to the bay with his plain sugar donut bag in hand. She’s protected him this far, after all.

“I wish you could try these,” he tells her, leaning over the bridge as he eats his donut. Koyomi peers down at the water glittering under the sunset. “They’re delicious.”

“How come you never try their new donuts?” she asks him.

Haruto shrugs and takes another bite of his plain sugar donut. “I don’t need to. I’ve found what I like, and I haven’t stopped liking it.”

Koyomi turns to look at him, the wind fluttering around her hair. “You don’t think you’ll ever like any of the other donuts as much as you like plain sugar?”

Haruto grins at her. “I know I won’t. Some things you just know in your heart. Or your stomach, I guess.”

“I can never tell if plain sugar donuts are really that amazing, or you’re just being stubborn,” she tells him. Her lips curl around a laugh and Haruto puts his donut down so he can smile at her.

“Maybe both,” he admits. “But if you tried them, you would see.”

Koyomi hops up and presses a finger to his lips, wiping off some of the sugar that remains. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Haruto pauses, looking at her, watching the orange sunlight glow around her, the crinkles at the corner of her eyes as she smiles, her thumb running sugar over his jawline. Before he can stop himself, he’s leaning down, and Koyomi gasps a little when his lips meet hers.

She’s cold, so cold, but when she kisses him back, he doesn’t care. His donut lies forgotten, although its sweetness lingers in the kiss, and he brings his hands up to cup her face and hold her close even after it ends.

“Haruto,” she says softly, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. “That was…”

“Stop,” he whispers, a smile quirking his lips at the echo of Nitoh’s words. “Don’t say it.”

Koyomi giggles and curls her hands around his wrists so she can pull herself up and kiss him again. Haruto slides his arms down and wraps them around her, tugging her in and thinking that, for a brief moment, she doesn’t feel cold at all.

But maybe that’s just the warmth from the kiss leaking through.

 

 

Missing her doesn’t ever get easier, but he aches less, when he sees her in his dreams. Feels warmer with the memory of her tucked into his heart. He doesn’t miss the weight of the ring as much, although he’ll find himself staring at his empty hand every now and then.

She would want him to be happy, so every time he thinks about her, he makes himself smile. He goes home to visit his friends and he can feel her there, at the table, as they’re laughing together, smiling back at him.

“Thank you,” he says one night, sitting on her bed and listening to the sounds of the night outside. Thinking about how many times the two of them had sat here, together, holding hands and forgetting about the dangers that lay beyond the shop. “For being my hope.”

He swears he can see her at his side, just for an instant, smiling at him.

“I love you,” she says, and the touch of her hand to his heart is warm and subtle, but there. Always, always there.


End file.
